Page 33 of Selling Innocence

Vance said nothing at first, the words sinking in slowly. Finally, he laughed. “You really know how to disarm a man, huh? I have to say, you look a lot better dressed up than I thought you would. I should have expected it, given your upbringing, but for some reason, I struggled to picture it.”

His gaze moved over me, and it felt like a caress each place he looked. My shoulder, the curve to my neck, the exposed area above the neckline of my dress.

I dropped my gaze when I couldn’t hold it any longer. “I’ve gone to a lot of places like this, dressed up for business get-togethers with my father. I’m just glad the dress still fits okay.”

“Oh, it fits better than okay.”

“Do you ever knock it off with the lines?” I wanted to say they didn’t affect me, that I ignored them and felt nothing.

What a lie.

Even if I knew he was just toying with me—probably out of boredom—that didn’t stop the way my pulse sped when he uttered such charming lies. In my old life, men had been far too afraid of my father to speak to me like that. No one flirted with me because they feared what might happen to them.

And since moving out here? Well, I hadn’t exactly welcomed such entanglements, hadn’t put myself in places where men might try it, so I hadn’t built up a defense against it.

Which made me want to laugh. The idea that I could tolerate getting abducted and threatened without too much reaction, but a few smooth pick-up lines lobbied my way had my palms sweating was laughable.

“They aren’t lines,” Vance said. When I lifted my eyebrow, he snickered. “Well, maybe they are, but that doesn’t make them untrue.”

“Right,” I muttered, taking a drink of my water to cool my burning cheeks.

“I’m serious.” Vance waited until I lifted my gaze to his bright blue eyes before he continued to speak. “Believe it or not, I don’t lie to women. I won’t pretend I’m not a womanizer, that I haven’t enjoyed more than my fair share of them, but I don’t like or trick them into my bed. Every woman who spends time with me knows the deal, that I’m not planning to settle down.”

“What woman would be okay with someone telling them they only want sex?”

“I don’t only want sex.” He held his hand up to silence me when I opened my mouth. “Don’t get me wrong, I want sex, but that’s not it. I enjoy women in general. I like to talk to women, to spend time with them. And what sort of women want that? Smart ones, usually, and confident ones. Some of them might hope they can get more out of me, and who knows? It’s possible one could catch my attention and change my mind. Most, though? They like the way I make them feel. They like the time together, to feel like they are beautiful and important and special even if it’s only for one night.”

“One night?” I asked in a whisper, the meaning behind that enough to have my mind supplying all sorts of scenarios. While I hadn’t actually had sex before, I wasn’t such a prude to not know what it entailed, to have watched porn and seen enough movies for my imagination to take over.

“Yeah. Sometimes one night is all you really need, and I promise, I can make one night feel like a whole lot longer.” He leaned in and set his hand on mine, the touch warm and gentle and reassuring. “I can make one night worth it for you, Kenz.”

“Is that why you brought me here? You probably just haven’t gotten to go out and find a booty-call because you have to watch me.”

“There are enough of us to handle that. If I wanted to go out, I could.”

“So why haven’t you?”

He shrugged as he dragged his thumb over mine, the touch soft despite the way it felt connected to every erogenous spot on my body. “Because I find you entertaining. I love spending time with women, but sometimes it becomes monotonous. You’ve interested me enough that I haven’t felt the need to go find anyone else.”

I swallowed hard, unsure how to react. Each word he spoke made me fall deeper into some haze, making me feel as though I’d drank something stronger than water, as if I were drunk on the atmosphere alone.

Which reminded me just how dangerous Vance was. He wasn’t the others, but he had a threat all his own. Vance could make me fall for him.

I had no doubt about that—he was too smooth, too smart, too damned handsome. If he really wanted something, I doubted I could resist.

Maybe I was pathetic and too needy. It felt like so long since someone had honestly complimented me. I’d been respected, given false words of praise all because people hoped to get something from my father, because they wanted something from me.

Those words had always felt like poisoned candy—sweet at first but that would eventually kill me.

Somehow, Vance’s words landed different. They shouldn’t have, since I couldn’t believe he didn’t whisper these same words to countless other women, but the idea of believing him, of accepting them, was too much.

So much had changed, so long I’d tried so hard to be something more, and here Vance was telling me I was good.

Not my name, not my money, not anything but me.

As the waiter passed by, I called out to him. “I changed my mind. Can I have a Long Island Iced Tea?”

When the waiter left, Vance chuckled and drew back, the loss of his hand chilling me. “Needing a little liquid courage?”

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